


The Lost Princess

by dylinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Death, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Mild Language, Mystery, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-02 02:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20973629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylinski/pseuds/dylinski
Summary: You hugged the useless flashlight as your body clung to the wall, hiding in the shadows of the house. It was bad enough that Stiles dragged you out of bed at 2AM for another lead, but this was not what either of you were expecting. You were both aware of the supernatural world that existed inside your own. There were werewolves, werecoyotes, banshees, wendigos, kitsunes, nogitsunes, druids, werejaguar—damn, that list could go on forever—but the last thing either of you thought you would ever find to be real were ghosts. Tortured souls that lurked in the shadows of the night, waiting to take their vengeance on any poor sap that happened to cross their path. You. You were that poor sap.





	The Lost Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Request from anon - 1/ Reader and Stiles are trapped in a haunted house . 
> 
> so this was a prompt for a haunted house and it started out that way and then just kind of turned into this. sorry if it’s not really what you wanted anon. also, sorry for the word count. he’s my trash.

You hugged the useless flashlight as your body clung to the wall, hiding in the shadows of the house. It was bad enough that Stiles dragged you out of bed at 2AM for another lead, but this was not what either of you were expecting. You were both aware of the supernatural world that existed inside your own. There were werewolves, werecoyotes, banshees, wendigos, kitsunes, nogitsunes, druids, werejaguar—damn, that list could go on forever—but the last thing either of you thought you would ever find to be real were ghosts. Tortured souls that lurked in the shadows of the night, waiting to take their vengeance on any poor sap that happened to cross their path. You. You were that poor sap.**  
**

You peeked around the corner, looking to see if the coast was clear after there had been a moment of silence. It was pointless since you couldn’t see the spirit, only the effects of it. It hadn’t been very happy that you were both here, in this abandoned house. Stiles just had to pick up the creepy ass doll. That’s when shit hit the fan. You heard screams and wailing, things flying off shelves and thrown through the air. Lights were flickering, which was concerning since you were confident no one had paid the electricity bill in years. There was wind blowing through the room, but no windows were open. Something that had been tossed in the air hit you in the head, knocking you out cold, but when you woke up Stiles was gone. You felt a shiver down your spine, so you ran out of the room into the hall and rounded a corner, hiding from something you couldn’t even see.

Your head was pounding, so you reached up to touch the spot just above your hairline and felt a wetness. Great, there was blood on your fingers, meaning you were bleeding. That’s just what you needed right now. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. What you wouldn’t give for Scott’s ability to see in the dark. The shadows from the moonlight created an outline of something on the floor, across the room you were in. You squinted into the darkness, trying to make out what it was. It almost looked…human. You hadn’t realized you were inching closer to the body. You kneeled down beside and found it to be Stiles.

“Oh my God! Stiles!” You whispered as you turned him over onto his back. He was unconscious, so you examined his head for any blood or cuts. Nothing. You looked over his body. Nothing. “I thought you left me. Now I kind of wish you had.” You huffed. You heard a wail from somewhere undetermined in the house, startling you and causing your body to tense up again. Perfect. Now you had to worry about Stiles. How in the hell are you going to be able to move him? He’s twice your size. You brushed his cheek with your fingers, admiring his face. The way his lips were slightly parted and his muscles all relaxed. Well that wasn’t going to last very long.

“Stiles!” you whispered loudly as you lightly slapped his cheek. Nothing. You shouted his name again, louder than before and slapped his face again, harder than before. Still nothing. What the hell? Did he get shot with a horse tranquilizer? “STILES!” You screamed as you closed your fist, punching the left side of his jaw. His eyes flung open as he slightly rolled over to his right from the impact.

“I’m up! I’m up!” His voice was hoarse and groggy. He blinked his lids rapidly, trying to orient himself and adjust them to the darkness. He sat up and rubbed his jaw. “Ow. Did you just punch me?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t wake up.” Just as he opened his mouth, a shriek echoed through the house sending vibrations through you. You both looked towards the direction of the noise then back to each other, faces full of horror.

In unison you both agreed, “We need to get out of here.”

You helped Stiles up as he stumbled. He didn’t remember how he got knocked out or how he even got out of the room where you both found the doll. You followed behind Stiles, holding onto the back belt loop of his pants as he searched the wall to move through the darkness. You both finally made your way to the front door you had entered through earlier that night. Stiles reached out and jiggled the doorknob. After some time passed and you grew impatient with his inability to open the door, you sighed. “Stiles! You don’t need supernatural strength to turn a knob.”

“Some werewolf strength would be helpful right about now since I can’t open the door, Y/N.”

“What do you mean you can’t open the door?” You pushed past him and found the brass handle and attempted to turn it. Nothing. You jiggled the knob to no avail. You let out a frustrated grunt as you slammed up against the door to knock it open.

“Y/N! Stop! You’re just going to hurt yourself!” He pulled you back and into his chest to try and stop you. You turned and face him, wearing a scowl and growled. It was hard to see his face, but the little light there was danced off his eyes, showing their adoring gaze. You knew he had a crooked smile on his lips to match. You relaxed, as much as you could in your situation, and smiled back. He pushed back the hair behind your ear that had fallen out of place in your attempt to break down the door. “Let’s see if we can find another way out.” You nodded into his hand that rounded your cheek. He turned around and you went to grab his waist to not lose him. Just before your hand met his side, that’s when it happened.

A black apparition came through the wall with an ear shattering scream. Without hesitation, it rammed straight into Stiles, throwing him up against the wall. You screamed Stiles’ name when you heard him collide with the old plaster. He fell to the ground and you flew to his side. “Oh my God! Stiles! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah.” He groaned, obviously in pain. “But I don’t think whatever that was is okay.”

“Stiles…” You trailed off as you choked on your words, trying to spit them out. “I don’t want to die here.” He was surprised by what you said. He took your face in his hand and pulled your forehead to his own.

“Y/N,” his words only above a whisper. “I’m not gonna let you die. I’m gonna get us out of this. I promise.” You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that welled in your ducts. You wanted to believe his words, but it was hard. You could tell he was having trouble believing them too since his voice cracked when he spoke. He kissed your forehead and stood up, reaching down and offering you a hand and pulling you up into his chest. “So this thing. It’s a spirit, right?” You shrugged and hummed the sound to the words ‘I don’t know.’ “Spirits typically stick around because they’re stuck.”

“Like, unfinished business?” You offered.

“Yeah, exactly. So we just need to find out what that unfinished business is.” You nodded in agreement. Stiles interlaced his fingers with yours and pulled, ushering you to follow him as he went back into the bowels of the house. Stiles led you to the room with the doll. It was laying in the middle of the floor, and Stiles leaned down to get it but you jerked him back. 

“Stiles! The last time you touched that thing, this shit started happening. I got hit in the face. Remember?”

“What? You got hit? Where?” He let go of your hand as both his hands came to your face, examining your head. That’s when he noticed the small spot of blood that broke through your hairline. “Are you okay?” He looked into your eyes, his own full of concern.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You pushed him off, feeling smothered. “Now back to this doll.” You pointed down at it, making a face of disgust as you recalled the pain it caused you.

“Right. So, like you said, it all started with that. We just need to figure out why it’s so important.”

“Maybe it belonged to the spirit. Could it be a little girl?” You could see the wheels turning in his head as you offered some ideas.

“No. I don’t think a little girl could do all…this?” He motioned in a jerky movement that was almost comical, pointing in every direction. You couldn’t help but let a chuckle out through your nose at the boy.

“Maybe a human one, but this is a supernatural one.” He rolled his eyes at you as he licked his lips, still trying to figure out the doll. He squatted down, investigating it but avoiding to touch it. While he was doing what he does best, you looked around the room for any clues. You stopped when you saw a picture, and walked over to it, Stiles unaware of your movement. It was dusty and hard to see, so you picked it up and wiped it off with your sleeve. There was an older woman with brown hair. She was smiling and happy, holding a child that resembled her features. The girl in her arms was holding onto the doll with a smile on her face as well. You ran your thumb across the glass of the frame, admiring their toothy grins, unable to prevent yourself from letting the corner of your lips turn up. 

You heard something whirl behind you, causing you to gasp and turn around as you were startled. The frame slipped from your hand and crashed into the floor, shattering the glass covering. Stiles jumped up. “What? What is it? Are you okay?” His voice was urgent as he ran over to you. You were getting tired of him asking you that question. You were obviously not okay. Nothing about this was okay. As he neared you, there was a crunch under his shoe. He stopped and looked down, puzzled. He stepped back and picked up the frame. He analyzed the image with his curious eyes and furrowed brow. There was nothing like seeing Stiles when he was piecing the puzzle together. It was as if a light had gone off in his mind, illuminating his eyes as they grew wide, signaling to you that he solved the mystery. He pulled the picture from the frame and looked up to you while clinging to the photo.

“This room. It’s different than the rest of the house.” He looked around, examining it.

“It is? I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, it is.” He either didn’t hear your sarcasm or chose to ignore it as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. He took you to the next room. “See! This room is mostly empty. Full of trash and falling apart.” Before you could respond he grabbed you by the wrist again, jerking you back to the original room. “This room is perfect, despite the dust. It’s untouched. Everything is in its place.” He turned to you with excitement in his eyes. You just glared at him as you rubbed your wrist, annoyed by him literally jerking you around. He looked at you with frustration, expecting you to see what he was seeing as he threw his arms out. 

“Your point?” The annoyance obvious in your voice. Stiles saw things most other people didn’t, so he often needed to explain himself. Dumb it down, if you would. He rolled his eyes and put his hand on his hip.

“It’s the mother! In the picture! This was her daughters room. Something must have happened to her, so the mom has been protecting the room.” In an instant, something in the house changed. It wasn’t cold and empty anymore. You could feel a warmth, like a presence. You turned around when you heard laughter coming from the hallway. You grabbed Stiles hand and he squeezed it in an attempt to offer comfort. You turned back and the room was different. Clean and new. The girl from the photo ran across the room in front of you to her bed where the woman from the same image was sitting. Stiles pulled you into his side, as if he were protecting you, so you wrapped your arms around his waist as you both continued to watch the vision unfold before you. The girl hopped onto the bed and you noticed she was holding the doll.

“Mommy! Mommy! Tell me a story!”

“Okay baby. Which one?” The woman brushed the hair from the child’s face. She wore the same large smile as she did in the picture you saw. 

“The one about the princess!” The girl curled up into the side of the woman, cradling the doll in her arms.

“Okay. Once upon a time there was a princess, and she lived with the queen in her castle, waiting for her prince. The prince never came, so the princess decided to go and find him herself. When the princess went on her quest, she left the queen all alone. For years the queen waited for the princess to return, but she never did. The queen grew sad. She feared she would never see the princess again so she became angry and bitter. When anyone came to her castle, she imprisoned them there so she wouldn’t feel so alone. All she really wanted though, was to be reunited with the princess who had been lost to the world.”

“Mommy! I want to hear the rest of the story.” The mother smiled at the girl softly. Breaking character, she then looked up at you and Stiles, the smile melting away from her lips and darkness filling her eyes.

“To this day, the queen is still waiting for the princess.” The mother transformed into a black fog that jumped out at the two of you. You both shouted and winced, but as it came in contact with you it vanished. You looked back up and saw that the room was how you originally saw it. Old, dusty, and untouched.You were still trying to process what you just saw, but Stiles was rubbing his chin as he tapped his foot, combing through all this new information. 

“It’s the story. The ghost is the girl’s mother, but she’s also the queen.” He spoke as if it was some kind of revelation. He looked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. “And the girl is her daughter, but also the princess!” You wore a look of confusion, unamused by his conclusions. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to get out of this place, not wanting to spend a minute more than you needed to here. 

Stiles let go of you and crossed his arms as he started tapping his foot again. After a few minutes, Stiles threw his finger into the air like he was declaring a point. “I think I know what happened. When I was 8, I remember that a girl went missing who was a couple years younger than me. My dad was only a deputy, but he was one of the officers assigned to the case.”

“And? Did they ever find the girl?” Stiles stopped tapping his foot and looked to you with a straight and hollow face.

“No.” He looked empty and emotionless. For some reason, his answer and the way he said it sent chills down your spine, summoning a shiver from your body. “This house, it’s just outside the woods. I think what happened was she had run off into them. She must have gotten lost, then probably died from exposure.” The entire house shuddered and shook as the words left his lips. Stiles jumped and held his arms out for balance.

“I don’t think she liked what you said.” He looked at you, full of sarcasm and rolled his eyes. You knew exactly what he was thinking: _Oh really?_ Stiles composed himself and looked up, fanning his eyes across the walls and ceiling. “Um. Spirit lady?”

“STILES. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” You whisper-shouted at him, fear and dread consuming you.

“I’m trying to talk to her.” He looked at you like it was the most obvious answer. “Spirit lady! I think I can reunite you with your princess, but you have to trust me.” Silence. “You have to let us go.” The room shook again, making you shoot a look at Stiles that showed frustration. He was making things worse. He just shrugged at your expression. “You have to trust me.” Stiles changed his posture, slumping. His voice lowered and was laced with sadness when he continued. “I lost my queen. When I was little, I lost my queen, so I know what you’re feeling.” The warm feeling returned, filling the room and making it feel less menacing. “I can find your princess, but you have to let us go.” After a few moments, you both heard a click. Stiles looked to you, surprised that it actually worked. You both ran from the room and saw that the front door was wide open. You gave Stiles a look and ran for it, he was close behind. You kept running until you were a good 30 feet from the house. Stiles came up behind you, bent over and gasping for breath. When he caught it, he looked you dead in the eyes. “We need to call Lydia.”

———

“You want me to what?” Lydia was obviously just as annoyed with being dragged out of bed as you had been. It was closer to 5AM now and the sky was starting to lighten, but just barely. 

“I need you to find a dead body. Well, bones actually.” Stiles smiled at her, hoping she would grant his request, but she was unamused. “Lydia! Look, we were just trapped inside a freaking haunted house for three hours!” She looked at you with a questioning gaze, so you nodded to confirm his story. She looked back at Stiles.

“Tell me what I need to know.” She rolled her eyes, giving in to her spastic friend. He told her about the doll and how we found the picture. How we saw the memory and the story we heard. Then the promise we made to the spirit. He explained that the girl had probably ran off into the woods behind the house and gotten lost. He had considered asking Scott for help, but he would be unable to find the girl since almost 10 years had passed. The body would be nothing but bones now and he would never be able to find a scent. Lydia has a connection to death and always finds the bodies, so he decided she was the best option.

Lydia walked to the back yard, both of you trailing close behind, and stopped in the center. She closed her eyes and shook her body loose. She shot her eyes open and gasped, pulled into the supernatural world that no one but her could see.

_ **Lydia’s POV** _

She threw her eyes open, overwhelmed by a feeling of urgency. Voices echoed in her ears, whispering things to her. Many of them weren’t relevant, so she had to sift through the chorus of noise to find the one she was looking for. Laughter rang in her ears and a girl skipped across the yard in front of her into the trees. She started following her without thinking, oblivious to Stiles and Y/N behind her. She stopped at the tree line and felt a chill from a gust of wind, but the trees weren’t moving. She looked into the maze of the woods and saw the girl, clinging to a doll staring back at her from far in the distance. She pointed to her right, then ran in that direction.

Lydia turned her head and headed in a diagonal line towards the right of where she had been standing. Every time she saw the girl, she was pointing in a different direction, and Lydia would adjust her path to match. She had no idea where she was going, where she was, or how long she had been walking, but she followed relentlessly leaving the world behind her. She took another step forward and stopped in her tracks. Goosebumps coated her skin and she started crying and gasping for breaths. 

“Lydia? Are you okay?” Stiles ran up from behind to her side and grabbed her arm. She ignored him, worlds away from where he was. In that moment, Lydia felt everything. She felt the fear the girl had when she realized she was lost. How she panicked and called out for help, but no one heard her. How she screamed and cried for anyone to come but no one ever came. The dread that settled in when the girl realized she was alone. The tears that ran down her face and how all she wanted was her mother. The violent shivering when night fell and the temperature dropped. Her body fighting for warmth, but unable to create heat. The pain of the coldness that ached in her arms and legs. Then the numbness that followed. She felt the last breath the girl let out as the world took her, stealing her light.

“Here.” Lydia pointed to the ground in front of her. Just as quickly as all the feelings came, they went away. Not completely, they lingered in the back of her mind, but they weren’t as overpowering. She fell into Stiles’ arms as he caught her. She was tired and finding the girl drained her, making her weak. Stiles guided her over to a nearby fallen tree and helped her sit down on the trunk as she wiped her tears.

_ **Reader’s POV** _

Before you all left, Stiles had grabbed a shovel and old duffel bag from the back of Roscoe, assuming that would have to dig up the remains and then need something to bring them back in. He started digging and it took a little over an hour. The two of you took turns so the other wouldn’t get too worn out. Just like Lydia said, you found the bones of what looked like a 6 year old girl. Stiles pulled them out and placed them in the bag. Thankfully, Stiles made mental notes of how you got here so finding your way back wasn’t too hard. Stiles started walking towards the main entrance of the house, but you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking the princess home.” His answer was straight and serious. You gave him a sympathetic smile.

“We both are.” He smiled and turned as you followed behind him. You went into the house and then to the girls room. Stiles set the bag down on the floor and took a step back. Before your eyes, the dark fog appeared, but it then transformed back into the woman from the picture. Out of thin air, the girl appeared next to the duffel bag.

“Mommy?” The little girl and her mother both started crying and ran to one another, encasing the other in their arms. You could feel your own tears brimming at your lids. You looked to Stiles who had a few tears streaming down his cheeks. You reached out and took his hand, squeezing. He squeezed back, letting you know he appreciated the gesture as his gaze stayed locked on the pair in front of you. The mother looked up at Stiles, refusing to let her princess go and mouthed ‘thank you.’ Stiles nodded, then turned and guided you out with him, keeping his fingers intertwined with yours.


End file.
